Never Enough

Ben’s birthday is tomorrow. I can hardly believe he’s going to be ten and that I am the mother of a kid whose age is in the double-digits. Time flies and in an instant there’s a “tween” where your toddler used to be.


Earlier this week, during a particularly challenging situation, I offered to buy my nearly-ten-year-old a $4.99 package of Nerf darts to replace the ones he had shot onto the roof. With considerable effort, Ben choked back tears and said, “That’s OK, Mom – you don’t have to. You've already been put through enough with me."

Now I’m certain I’ve never uttered those particular words to Ben and I’m not sure who might have. It seems strange to me that he would come up with those words all on his own. But while I would most certainly go full-scale momma-bear (and decidedly Southern) on anyone who would say that to my sweet Ben, I honestly wouldn’t spend a moment trying to figure out who (if anyone) did. My only concern was making sure Ben understood there is simply no such thing as "enough” when it comes to moms and their kids.

So I looked at him incredulously and said, "Enough? What on earth do you mean enough? You're not even 10-years-old yet, Ben! I have so much more to be 'put through' with you, my love." (Thank goodness.)

Enough? Pfft. Puh-lease.

That conversation got me to thinking, though, about what Ben has “put me through.” When Ben was born he took my idea of what it meant to be a good mom, swung it around over his head, smashed it on the ground, jumped up and down on it good and hard and peed all over it (a couple of times).  But then the strangest thing happened. When I picked up that twisted, shattered, ruined mess of my idealism, what I had was far more beautiful than anything I had previously imagined. After what Ben has “put me through,” the person I see in the mirror is a far better mom than any June Cleaver ideal I could have conjured up in my mind. What Ben has “put me through” is nothing short of a transformation. And for that I’ll never be able to thank him enough.

Happy Birthday, my sweet Ben. I love you all the time. I’m proud of you every day. You awe, inspire, humble and teach me. How did I ever get so lucky to be “put through” so much?